Lost
by Koezh
Summary: My take on what might have happened to Jane to make him hospitalized...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Mentalist is not mine and I get no money from this.

**Author's Note:**This was originally supposed to be one-parter but this first bit is longer than I expected so it'll be multi-chapter. Sorry if my medical knowledge is inaccurate I'm just guessing on what little I know, also the producer is made up. Anyway hope you like it, as I said its my take on what could have happened to Jane when he was hospitalized, enjoy! btw for anyone who reads Blood and Tears, the next chapter should be up tomorrow.

_He sat looking at the face, like he'd done today and the day before that and the day before that. It was hard to concentrate on anything else. If his eyes were open he saw it, if his eyes were shut he saw it._

_Sleep had become impossible, the doctor had given him pills but the nothingness of sleep had been replaced with vivid nightmares of his family dying or him discovering their bloody corpses, and always, always that face grinning at him like it knew it was his fault._

_He just couldn't bring himself to care about anything anymore, before he'd wanted to give then a nice funeral but now? He was just alone, eternally alone with his guilt and grief. He'd never see them again, ever and it was all his fault. How could he care anymore about anything? What was the point?_

_So he decided to do it, to finally do it. He knew it was selfish but he didn't have anyone to care anymore and all he wanted was to be gone, to not have to deal with having to live without his family, to not have to deal with the face. They'd been everything to him and without everything you get nothing._

_So he went and got his sleeping pills and some aspirin plus some bourbon to was it down. He swallowed the pills and drank till there was nothing left. He dropped the bottle beside him and waited for death..._

It was a sunny day as Mike Rothman pulled into the drive. The house was silent and again he felt slightly guilty for going to bother Patrick Jane like this. He was a producer on Jane's psychic show and had been sent- after drawing the short straw with the other two producers- to try talk him back into doing the show.

He knew it was hard on Jane, losing your whole family like that, he shivered at the thought as he approached the door and rang the bell. He still wasn't sure what he should say, Jane did have a good reason for not wanting to carry on with the show but it was still popular and had good ratings. He thought they should have at least waited longer before talking to him about this, it had only been a week since his family's funeral after all.

He waited thinking of this, then waited some more, and carried on waiting. He didn't think Jane was going to come to the door. Maybe he should go he thought, after all he did try. Worrying about this he decided to check if the door was open, if it wasn't be would go. Happy with this he reached out for the door-handle and was disappointed when it opened.

Sighing again he went into Jane's house. It seemed so empty and quiet, the few times he had been the house it had been noisy with his daughter playing and his wife yelling at her to be quiet while they had guests. His family had been nice enough, sweet house Jane had too.

"Patrick?" he called out. Silence, maybe he was upstairs he thought as he began climbing the stairs slowly. Still no sign of Jane, slightly annoyed he turned and saw a bloody red face smiling at him from the master bedroom. Feeling chilled to the bone, he wondered if it was healthy for Jane to still have that on the wall. Reluctantly he headed for the room.

Transfixed he reached the face, god this Red John guy was sick he thought as he turned towards the door, where he saw Jane sitting beside it.

He looked thinner than Rothman remembered. His blonde hair was unkempt and he had a slight stubble, it looked weird seeing him like this and not wearing a three-piece suit either, just a shirt not even tucked in. Wondering again if he should just go Mike noticed the bottles beside Jane.

Feeling his heartbeat increasing he knelt beside him, there was an empty bottle of bourbon, sleeping pills and aspirin, shit! He couldn't have, he wouldn't have... Shit!

"Patrick! Patrick, can you hear me? Wake up goddam it!" he screamed at Jane shaking him violently. This was not good, he took out his cell and dialled 9-1-1.

"Hello 9-1-1, what's your emergency?" said a woman's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello I'm Mike Rothman, I errr... just went to see Patrick Jane at his house and uhm... it sort of looks like... I think he tried to kill himself, there's a bunch of empty bottles here..."

"Does he have a pulse?" with a shaking hand he reached out and was relieved to feel a faint pulse.

"Yeah, he's- he's got a pulse,"

"We'll dispatch an ambulance to your location immediately. Do you know the address?"

"Errr... no, but its Patrick Jane's house, his family were killed here recently,"

"Okay, no problem hang in there, help is on the way," she hung up and it put down the phone still in a state of disbelief. Jane had tried to kill himself! He was always seemed so happy, losing his family must have been harder on him than anyone had thought... but suicide? Patrick!?

He heard sirens and then footsteps.

"Up here!" he yelled running down the corridor to see the paramedics shuffling in, "he's up here guys!" he yelled again motioning to the room. The paramedics hurried upstairs with their kits and went to Jane, he hoped he'd be okay, he was a nice guy after all, everyone liked him.

Jane was put on a stretcher and brought to the ambulance, Mike still struggled to believe it.

"Does he have any family?" one of the paramedics was asking him, "anyone we can call? I noticed a wedding ring on his finger,"

"His wife was killed recently, and his only child. I errr... don't think he has any other family. There was no one like that at the funeral anyway,"

"Okay," she said getting into the ambulance. Mike watched it drive away, still not quite believing this. Shaken he got back into his car, feeling the sudden urge to go home to his own family. He hoped Jane'd be okay...

**Author's Note: **Well what d'ya think? Please review, I always love to see what you guys think :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Mentalist is not mine nor do I make profit from this.

**Author's Note: **Thank you to my readers and especially to jisbon-sessed for reviewing. This chapter is pretty dark, it may be a bit confusing when you get to the italics but it is meant to be as Jane's really confused and lost he's also sort of delusional and insane, I hope you like anyway.

Jane forced his eyes open confused. He was supposed to be dead so why the hell was he in a hospital? He groaned miserably somebody must have found him, it just wanted to die. Why couldn't he just die, it was so unfair, so incredibly unfair. He was such a useless failure he couldn't even die properly, he could kill everyone he cared about but not himself. Why did life have to be unbelievably cruel?

"Hello Mr. Jane?" he looked at the speaker, some old doctor, he couldn't be bothered to analyse him. Jane just shut his eyes as waves of misery descended on him.

"I see you're awake. You were found dying from a mixture of tablets and alcohol, I believe you were trying to kill yourself,"

"No I wasn't," Jane said feigning shock, "I couldn't sleep and I had a headache, the pills weren't taking away the pain or helping me sleep so I kept taking more. I was already drunk from before, I wasn't trying to die,"

"I think you were Mr. Jane,"

"And I think you're wrong,"

"And I think your depressed. You've lost weight, your starving, dehydrated, filthy. I think having lost your family, you've lost your will to live. You just want me to let you go so you can attempt suicide again,"

Jane couldn't think of anything convincing to say so he just lay there numbly.

"You are very lucky Mr. Jane, you were found before the damage was permanent. Physically you will be fine, mentally..."

No, not a psychiatric hospital, please not a loony bin he hoped fervently.

"I am committing you to a psychiatric hospital,"

"No!" Jane cried out, "please don't, please," he begged, knowing his pleas would fall on deaf ears.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jane, but it is the best place for you,"

"No!" he screamed again as he began crying, he just wanted to die. He just wanted to stop hurting, to stop missing his family, to stop hating himself, to stop the constant pain of having to live with what he'd done.

And now because some idiot had stumbled in on him he was going to the only place on the planet that was worse than home. The only thing to make his life even more hopeless. Jane couldn't stop the tears, not this, not again. Jane couldn't bring himself to care anymore, he deserved to suffer and hadn't the strength to fight or even to care anymore. He felt all the life and joy had been drained out of him, leaving an empty shell of despair.

"I'm going to give you something to make you sleep. Goodnight Mr Jane,"

"No!" the words died on his lips as darkness took him.

_The sun shone brightly over them. He was the beach with his family. His wife was relaxing in the shade reading a book while he and his daughter built the most magnificent sandcastle, she loved to built sandcastles. They built it bigger and bigger until they could go inside it, he did so and saw it was his studio, he saw himself sitting there already saying the words that would destroy his world. He ran outside, maybe he could still save them, maybe he could get there in time. But no, his wife's bloody corpse was lying in the shade, his daughter's lifeless body thrown over the sandcastle. The sea is red with blood and as he looks up, he sees the bloody face smiling at him. Mocking him like he mocked Red John._

_He falls to his knees and sees his bloody red hands, he curls into a ball, heart-wrenching sobs coming from his weakened body. He opens his eyes to find he is no longer on the beach but in a room, a small white room with a bed. He hates this place and just cries harder. He'd give anything to die, he'd give anything but as he'd already lost everything he had nothing left to give._

_He withdraws more into himself and finds he is back on the beach, the bloody beach. The sky is no longer alight by the rays of the sun, they have died along with his joy. He doesn't need the light anyway, he can still see what had happened and that face still smiling at him._

_He runs back into the sandcastle, this time it is the his bedroom, complete with his dead family. _

_"Dear Mister Jane, I do not like to be slandered by the media, especially not by a dirty money-grubbing fraud. If you were a real psychic instead of a dishonest little worm, you wouldn't need to open the door to see what I have done to your lovely wife and child," the speaker is a blond man in a three piece suit, he recognizes the man, it is all his fault. He and the man go towards each other._

_"Look what you've done," he whispers to the man, who begins to cry._

_"Look what you've done," he tells the man again, who cries harder._

_"Look what you've done!" he screams at the man again, who stops crying. _

_"Look what you've done," the man whispers to him as he turns and points to a door. _

_"Look what you've done," the man tells him again. The man and him go into the room, it is a small room filled with mirrors, and in those mirrors he sees his wife and child. He runs to them and claws at the surface but he cannot get to them, they are unreachable, they are dead._

_"No!" he gasps, all he wants is to be with them, all he wants is too reach them. They were everything to him, they were him family._

_"Look what you've done," the man screams. He smashed the mirrors and man is gone, so is his family. All he is is broken. All that is left is the face, over and over again, everywhere he looks._

_"NO!"_

_The man sits on the bed, he buries his head in his hands sobbing..._

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter 2 for you. Well what do you think? It's pretty different from my other stories so I really wanna know what you think, please review:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine, no profit

**Author's Note: **Again sorry if my knowledge inaccurate I am basically guessing. Thank you to my readers and to jisbon-sessed for reviewing you are the best :)

Sophie Miller walked down the corridor bracing herself for her first meeting with her newest patient. She glanced again at the file for him, Patrick Jane. Taking a breath she went into his room, Jane was sitting on the bed crying, she also noted a bloody red smiley face on the wall. He'd drawn it on with his own blood at some point and no one had gotten round to removing it.

The orderly put a chair opposite him then left. She sat on the chair studying him carefully as he had yet to react to her presence.

"Patrick Jane?" she asked seeing how he'd respond to his name, he winced and stopped immediately stopped crying but didn't look up.

"My name is Sophie Miller, I'm your psychiatrist. Do you mind if I call you Patrick?"

"Knock yourself out," he mumbled without looking up.

"Okay Patrick, do you know where you are?"

"Hell," he said bluntly, "I mean that metaphorically by the way," he added quickly. He seemed responsive which was a good sign, "I'm in some kind of psych place."

"Yes. Do you know why you are here?"

"Because people are bastards? You tell me shrink," he said bitterly.

"Because you tried to kill yourself, do you remember that?" she wanted him to look up at her, eye contact usually helped to develop trust.

"Whatever you say shrink," he continued, she was considering her next question carefully, he seemed to have a distrust of doctors and shrinks for some reason. It was going to be difficult to get through to him, it would help if he'd look at her, "you're mad that I'm not looking at you, you want to make eye contact with me so I'll trust you," she was shocked that he knew this but tried not to show it, he noticed anyway somehow, "I know your shocked, don't try to hide it,"

"Do you know because your psychic?" she asked not really believing in psychic powers but wanting to see if it'd provoke a response.

"I'm not psychic, I never was, it's just paying attention. I'm good aren't I? I don't even need to look at you," his tone was hopeless and his laugh bitter, "I'm just a fraud, a dirty money -grubbing fraud,"

"Okay, so why pretend your psychic?"

"Money, it's the only way I know how to make money. All my life it's all I've done. My wife didn't want me to carry on doing it anymore, not when we had enough money,"

"But you did anyway,"

"I liked tricking people, I enjoyed the power rush. She warned me, she knew it was dangerous and I didn't listen. And they paid for it,"

"You feel guilty,"

"No I'm over the bloody moon," he said sarcastically, "of course I'm guilty, I killed them, I killed my own family, my own wife, my own child," he looked up at her then, his striking eyes caverns of hopeless despair.

"I'm only telling you this because I don't care anymore, I can't be bothered to care, to wear that mask, it's been torn away and ripped to shreds along with my life. I don't care anymore so nothing you say or do matters to me. I don't want a life so you can't help me fix it, just let me die,"

"I'm not going to give up on you Patrick," she told him, genuinely wanting to help him, "I'll see you tomorrow," she turned and left taking the chair with her, vowing she would help him.

* * *

"How do you feel about Red John?" Sophie asked him. Jane was lying on his bed pretending to be asleep as usual, since the first day he usually ignored her when she was here or else lie his way through the sessions with answers he knew she wanted to hear. He knew he was lying though but in a way it was progress, it was better that he was thinking as opposed to drowning silently in his miserable sea of guilt.

"He's the one who killed your family, Patrick. He's the murderer,"

"Did they catch him yet?" she was shocked he'd spoken and took a moment to reply.

"I don't think so," she said eventually.

"It was partially his fault, he was the one with the knife," Jane sat up as some realization seemed to hit him, "they're not going to catch him, Red John is too brilliant, insanely twisted and evil but smart," Jane was smiling now and seemed to just be streaming thoughts, "and I'm brilliant too, I hate myself but I'm brilliant,"

"Okay," Sophie put in confused by Jane's rant.

"He's going to get away with it but I bet I could catch him, he has to pay too," Jane's face darkened at the last, "he's the murderer, I'm going to avenge them Sophie," he flashed his charming smile at her, "I'm going to get better, now I have a reason to live,"

Sophie nodded awkwardly not sure if vengenance was the best way to recovery, but it was progress and any progress had to be good if you were the mysterious Patrick Jane.

* * *

"Thank you," Jane shook her hand warmly, "thank you for helping me and for keeping this... unfortunate episode off my record," Sophie smiled pleased Jane was doing so well.

"Your welcome Patrick," she answered, "so what are you going to do now?"

"Be a full time consultant for CBI, I'm going to make the world a better place with my skills. Take killers off the streets and all that," Jane smiled as they began walking to the bus stop, Jane's car was still at his house.

"That's good to know. And Red John?" she asked cautiously.

"I'm going to catch him do and he can rot in jail for what he did," she smiled pleased he seemed less focused on killing the guy. She also had to admit Jane seemed much more at ease outside than in the hospital.

"Goodbye Sophie, and thanks again for everything," Jane said smiling as the bus pulled up.

"Good Luck Patrick, I'll see you," she waved him goodbye as he got on the bus.

* * *

Patrick sat down on the bus feeling relived to be finally free from that hospital. He was grateful to Sophie for helping him realize his error. How could he be so stupid to have tried to end his life before avenging his family? He couldn't die, not unless he took Red John with him.

But now he had a plan, join CBI, `help` them find Red John, then cut him open and watch him die slowly. He smiled and put on his wedding ring, his finger had felt funny without it (patients weren't allowed wedding rings).

"I'm going to avenge you, don't worry," he whispered and smiled, "and nothing is going to stand in my way..."

**Author's Note: **This is the final part, well what d'ya think? Please review I'm not psychic :)


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